Play Mister For
Me
by Sam Mosley
I’ve been
a prison screw for 28 years, seen 'em all.
Seen your
murderers, swindlers, your posh and your tosh -
some of 'em I’ve actually liked.
But there are
others I wouldn’t piss on if they were
alight. Unless of course I could urinate petrol.
I’ve
witnessed changes in the prison industry - some
good, not all.
So the latest
revelation from the misguided did not unduly
surprise me.
Now, if
I’ve heard correctly, some head for The
League of Penal Reform is saying criminals should
not be termed offenders as it is
demeaning, and in general these criminals are not
being treated with respect.
I’m not
sure if I should take too much notice of this as
the head of the organisation is actually named
Crook. However, what I do know is we are now
obliged to call our criminals “MISTER”.
Well, we are
here to help! And so with love in my heart, I
commenced my morning rounds.
Gently rapping
on the cell door, I’m greeted with jocular
banter. I return the bonhomie with a cheery
‘Good morning Mister Murderer, and you
Mister Murderer’s Bitch.
I receive more
jocular banter. I then enquire if they slept well...
Apparently not.
Is there is
anything I can get them from the shops, I ask?
It’s no
problem for me as I have to swop some videos for
Mister Paedophile.
No? Then I
shall go see what the Chef's creating for your
feast of the day. I gently close the cell door,
happy in the knowledge that the Chef, Mister
Poisoner, will be at the very least pissing in
their soup.
|
